


Carpe Diem

by Mordinette



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordinette/pseuds/Mordinette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if it was Garrus who proposed that he and Shepard blow off steam and Shepard was the awkward and insecure one? A fill for a prompt on the ME kmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this story for a prompt on the ME kink meme. The prompt was (as written by the OP):  
>    
> "I'd like to read a story where Garrus pursue romance with Shepard and not the other way around like in the games. I want him to offer her to blow off the steam and for her to be the awkward and insecure one. It doesn't matter during which game it happens."
> 
> I thought it would be fun to turn things around like that.
> 
> Sorry for all the in-game dialogue in the first chapter, but I needed them to set up the scene.
> 
> Thank you to The Red Celt for beta reading.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Garrus was in a good mood. A great mood, in fact, compared to how he'd been feeling for the last few weeks. Sidonis had been dealt with, and (though he would never forget his betrayal and the death of his teammates) he could finally put the past behind him and concentrate on the present. He had Shepard to thank for that; this amazing human who was not only his commander but also his best friend, just about the only friend he had left at this moment. Just the fact that she was alive made him feel like maybe the galaxy's goal wasn't to crush his soul and spirit, then chew him up and spit him out in a broken mess after all. He'd even finished all the gun calibrations he could do and was running some firing algorithms for fun - he had to occupy all that free time he had at his disposal now _somehow_.

Life was good.

So when Shepard came to see him and asked if they could talk, he was more than happy to oblige her.

"I wanted to thank you again for your help with Sidonis," he said, his voice calmer and smoother than it had been for a very long time. "Whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers or whatever comes after us, I know you'll get the job done."

"I couldn't do this without you, Garrus," she replied matter-of-factly, putting her hands behind her back.

"Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course," he smirked and followed her with his eyes as she walked over to a crate in the corner to sit down. "It's strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship. Your people don't prepare for high-risk operations the way turians do."

"How do turian crews get ready for high-risk missions?" she asked, putting an elbow on her knee and leaning forward as she watched him move around and gesture as he talked. She was glad to see him calm and relaxed again; she'd been worrying about his state of mind and what his time on Omega had done to him.

"With violence, usually. Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance , but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise," he explained, "combat sims, even full-contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress."

"You mean turian ships have crewmen fight each other before a mission?" This was something new and she wasn't sure if it was such a good idea.

"It's supervised, of course," he shrugged. "Nobody is going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably. I remember right before one mission we were about to hit a batarian pirate squad. Very risky." He started to pace again as the memories came rushing back. He hadn't thought about this in a quite a while. "This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring."

"I assume you took her down gently?" she asked with a smile. She couldn't imagine anybody beating Garrus in contact sparring. She'd seen him in battle many times before; handling a sniper rifle wasn't the only thing he was good at.

"Actually, she and I were the top-ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, but she had flexibility. It was brutal." He shook his head, remembering the vicious blows and kicks they doled out to each other. "After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room. We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters," he added, his heart beating a little faster at his recollections. "I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess." He spread his mandibles wide in a mischievous grin.

He was lost in the memory of that night for a few seconds, as long-forgotten feelings and desires threatened to resurface again, making his plates shift a tiny bit. He could use some tension release right now.

It wasn't like him, however, to share such intimate details of his life with somebody. Why now? Of course, Shepard wasn't just anybody; there was a strong connection between them even before she had died then came back to life to reclaim their friendship and give him a chance for maybe something more.

He turned towards her and searched her face, trying to decipher what she'd thought of his revelations, worrying that maybe humans didn't view these kinds of liaisons the same way as turians did. She shook her head, but she was smiling, and his stomach released the knot that had started to build.

Maybe he could risk taking this one step further.

"I've noticed that you carry a lot of tension yourself," he started, trying to sound as casual as he could. "I think I could help you with that."

"You want to do some sparring with me?" she asked, her eyes opened wide in surprise. She did not expect to be challenged to a sparring match when she came in to talk to him this evening.

"Ah, no," he chuckled. "I meant the _other_ way of blowing off steam." He leveled his gaze at her, his piercing blue eyes burning with intense heat as he waited for her answer.

"Oh." Her heart jumped into her throat and her blood rushed to her face, painting her cheeks bright red when she realized what exactly he meant. She had a lot of affection for him and there was nobody she trusted more, but this was totally unexpected. She'd never considered him more than a friend; she'd never considered an inter-species relationship before, period. But...why not? They both had a dangerous profession and they never knew what fate would throw at them on their next mission. She remembered a sign she once saw when she was in basic training: "Carpe Diem," seize the day. She decided then that they were wise words to live by.

"Well...why not?" she said out loud, standing up from her sitting position on the crate and looking him straight in the eye. "If we can figure out how to make this work..." She wasn't sure about that, to tell the truth - they were two different species, after all. Maybe this would all be just talk in the end. Just some light banter that they could tease each other with.

"I'm pretty sure we can make it work," Garrus replied with a grin, remembering his time with that asari dancer on Omega. Before that, he would have had his doubts, too, but since humans and asari were so similar, he knew things would go well. _Really_ well. "But we can do some research first if you like," he added encouragingly, trying to put her mind at ease.

"Oh... okay," she said, her voice trembling a little bit. Maybe this was actually going to happen. "I... didn't know you had a thing for humans," she smirked, trying to sound her usual confident self again.

"No, I don't have a thing for humans," he replied, stepping a little closer and looking deep into her eyes. "Just for you."

Her eyelashes fluttered and she let out an almost inaudible gasp in surprise.

"Well...okay then," she finally said, swallowing hard, as she backed away towards the door, "I... I'll do some research... and... ah... you know... let you know when... umm... you know..."

"Okay." Garrus flared his mandibles in a smile.

Then she was gone, leaving him staring after her with a happy grin on his face.

Yep, life was good.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard stood on the other side of the door, cheeks burning, heart racing, and it took her quite a while to collect herself and calm down. His eyes... His voice... They awakened a primal hunger in her that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Her days were spent fighting enemies and getting things done for others; her own needs had taken a back seat. Until now. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and eventually managed to stroll through the Mess Hall without giving away any hint about the raging fire that was burning inside her.

She needed even more self-control the next day, when she took Garrus and Thane with her to a Blood Pack base on Zada Ban. Every time Garrus looked at her or his hand brushed against hers she felt a jolt of electricity rush through her veins. Thane raised a puzzled eyebrow when her concentration slipped for a moment and she almost had her head blown off after she'd peeked out of cover a little too soon.

"Are you okay?" Garrus asked in a concerned voice, turning towards her after he'd picked the sniper off with one efficient headshot.

"Yeah. Sorry - I was just distracted for a second," she said, rubbing the back of her neck with her gloved fingers. She mentally kicked herself for being so careless, called on her strict training, and managed to block out Garrus's charm for the rest of the mission.

She finally let herself relax on their way back to the Normandy. She sat in the shuttle, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Thane and Garrus were seated on the bench on the opposite side, facing her. Thane's eyes were closed - he was probably meditating -, but when she looked at Garrus she found that he was watching her intently. Their eyes locked onto each other and he flashed her a toothy grin. Her stomach trembled and she blushed, but she returned his smile with one of her own.

When they were back on the ship Garrus let Thane board the elevator alone, staying behind and lightly touching Shepard on the elbow, letting her know that he wanted to talk to her. The drell gave them a small bow and entered the cabin, and when the door closed behind him Garrus bent down and whispered in her ear, "Do you have a minute?"

"Umm... Sure. I'll come and see you in a little while," she replied in a low voice, the hair standing up on the back of her neck at the sensation of his hot breath against her skin.

He nodded and walked into the elevator to go to the crew deck, punched the button, then turned around and kept his gaze on her as the door closed.

She checked her messages then went to talk to Mordin about the state of his experiments on the Collector samples. She found him at his terminal, as usual, buried in work.

"Shepard. How can I help?" he greeted her without looking up.

"Have you got a minute to talk?" she asked as she watched his nimble fingers fly over the console, rapidly entering some data that most likely only made sense to him.

"Perhaps later. Trying to determine how scale-itch got onto Normandy. Sexually-transmitted disease." He inhaled sharply. "Only carried by varren. Implications unpleasant."

She was about to turn around and leave when he spoke again.

"Actually," his fingers stopped their dance and he straightened up, cupping his chin with one hand while he supported his elbow with the other, "might be good to talk."

"Okay," she looked at him expectantly.

"Cerberus crew not used to close contact with aliens. May explain problem with scale-itch." He waved his hand at the console, as if that nasty medical condition was hiding right there. "Might be good idea to put together information packet."

"Umm... What?" She wasn't sure she understood where he was going with all this.

"Ship has drell, turian on board," he explained. "Crew might also meet other races on shore leave. Aware that mission is dangerous," he took a deep breath and his eyelids closed for a second. "Different species react differently to stress. Sexual activity normal stress release for humans and some other species. Still, want to recommend caution to crew. Warn of chafing with turians, possible rash from prolonged skin contact with drell. Ingestion of turian's tissues may result in allergic reaction; oral contact with drell may cause mild hallucinations."

She stared at him, wondering how this conversation could have veered in this direction. All she had wanted was to ask how his work with the Collector samples was progressing. But he calmly continued, as if they were discussing something totally ordinary, like the next day's duty roster.

"Want to let crew know, can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Can also provide diagrams and brochures about erogenous zones, comfortable positions for different species." He looked at her intently, as if he was waiting for her to say something. "So?" he finally asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Yes?" she asked back, confused. She wasn't sure what exactly he wanted from her after this speech.

"Agree about putting together informational packet and distributing to crew?" he tilted his head and raised his left arm, his right hand hovering over his omni-tool.

"Umm... Sure," she nodded, and watched with amusement as he immediately went to work pulling up all that data and material and assembling them into one folder.

She started to leave, but a thought occurred to her and she turned back, the corner of her lips curving into a smirk.

"What about salarians? Is there anything people should be aware about?"

"Hmm?" he looked up. "Oh. No issues with salarians. Low sex drive," he said matter-of-factly, and turned back to his omni-tool.

She stood there, gaping at him for a few seconds, but finally decided that she'd had heard enough, strolled through the door with a chuckle, and headed to the Main Battery.

The elevator ride was agonizingly slow as usual, giving her ample time to mull over Mordin's little lecture. She wasn't particularly concerned about chafing or allergic reactions, but still, the reminder that she and Garrus were two different species made her wonder if they were crazy even considering this..."blowing off steam" thing. By the time she finally arrived on the crew deck her mood had darkened enough to prompt every crewman she encountered in the Mess Hall to try to blend into the environment and become as inconspicuous as humanly possible.

"Something wrong?" Garrus asked when she entered the Main Battery. He'd known her long enough to be aware that when her eyebrows crinkled and she chewed her lower lip like that there was something not entirely pleasant on her mind.

"Garrus. I've been thinking about...you know... what we talked about." She cast a desperate look at him, hoping that she didn't have to go into more details than that. She was Commander Freaking Shepard, the savior of the galaxy - why was she so reluctant to say these things aloud? She sighed and, seeing his confused expression, went on. "Are you sure that it's such a good idea that we... ease tension... together?"

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked in a low voice, his stomach tightening with worry.

"I don't know..." She shook her head and stared at the floor, as if the answer was written right there among the patterns of the metal plating and she just had to decipher it. "It's just that... I never considered a cross-species... umm... affair... before. Are you sure you don't want somebody of your own race?" She looked up and leveled her gaze at him, and when her eyes met those beautiful, blue, piercing eyes of his, her heart thudded in her chest so hard that she was afraid that he could hear it.

"Shepard," his voice rumbled warmly, sending chills down her spine. When did those sub-harmonics become so sexy? She'd always thought that his voice was quite pleasant, but now... just hearing him talk made her stomach tremble.

"You're the only one that I want," he said, "nobody else. I don't care that you're not a turian. We can make it work. Besides, it's not just about blowing off steam," he added, and he looked so sincere that her heart started to sing inside her chest. "It's about us. But... if you're uncomfortable with this, that's okay. I'm not trying to pressure you."

"Garrus," she started, the cloud above her head dissolving into a sunny smile on her face, "I... No, I'm not uncomfortable with the idea. Just a little nervous. But I want to try it with you." She took a step forward and put a hand on his arm, her eyes searching his, finding the same emotions as the ones her chest was swelling with: affection, trust, desire.

He slowly bent down and touched his forehead to hers. She reciprocated the gesture, and they stood there for a few seconds like that, the intimate brush of their skins sending the kind of warmth through their bodies that they both had been lacking for such a long time.

"So," she finally pulled back enough to look up at him, "what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to invite you to dinner when we're on the Citadel again. I know this nice little restaurant where they serve human _and_ turian dishes. I thought you might like it," he added with a smile.

"Like a date?" she grinned happily. She hadn't had one of those in god knows how long.

"Yeah," he purred and stroked her arms gently with his talons.

"That would be great. We're going to dock there soon anyway - we have to stock up on some supplies. I'll declare shore leave and you can show me that place."

"The perks of being the commander," he smirked.

"Yep," she laughed, then reluctantly pulled away to leave. "I have to get back to work. Talk to you later, Garrus."

"I'll be here when you need me," he said, and she knew that it was true. He was always there for her when she needed him.

She turned around and left, with a big smile on her face this time.


	3. Chapter 3

The Citadel was busy as usual, but she barely noticed all the comings and goings and even her bargaining skills were lacking this time. She just couldn't stop thinking about her date with Garrus that evening. He accompanied her, together with Kasumi, on her quest to purchase some weapon and armor upgrades in Zakera Ward. She felt like a teenager with a crush, stealing glances at him at every chance she had, and he seemed to be equally smitten with her. Kasumi couldn't help but notice their lingering looks and smiles, and while Garrus was preoccupied with an intriguing sniper rifle accessory she pulled Shepard aside.

"You should wear that little black dress I gave you. It accentuates your figure," she whispered. "Turians like that," she added with a wink, her dark eyes flashing with amusement under her hood.

"What are you talking about?" Shepard whispered back in an aggravated tone of voice as she yanked her arm out of Kasumi's firm grasp.

"Please." The thief gave her a knowing look. "Even a child could see that there's something going on between you two. I think you look cute together. I say, go for it!" She smiled encouragingly.

Shepard rolled her eyes, but her heart filled with affection as she watched Garrus scan a particularly handy scope attachment with his visor then lift it to his right eye and look through it with great interest. A thought came to her mind, however, and she turned back to Kasumi.

"How do you know what turians like, anyway?" she asked teasingly.

"I have to know these kinds of things in my line of work," Kasumi chuckled. "Once there was this really beautiful antique clock that I had my eye on. Its owner was a wealthy turian businessman with a fetish for humans - especially for women with curvy hips and slim waists. So I dressed up in this little-"

"Never mind," Shepard interrupted, holding a hand up, as if to stop the flood of words that were going to escape the thief's lips. "Forget I even asked."

"It's a fun story. Just come by sometime and I'll tell you the rest."

"I can hardly wait," Shepard snickered, then turned her attention back to her favorite turian.

 

* * *

 

By the time the long anticipated evening arrived most of the crew was gone, more than happy to comply with the Commander's orders to "get their asses off the ship" and take a well-deserved break on the Citadel. They had left in small groups, debating excitedly which bar or shop or other establishment to visit first. Even EDI was operating on stand-by, quietly running some system checks in the background.

Free from any unnecessary interruptions, Shepard was wrestling with other, more urgent issues at the moment. She was standing in front of her small closet, pondering the age old question that every woman in the universe faces at one point in their lives: What should she wear? Her trusty old armor was out of the question; though she appreciated the comfort of the protection it provided, she didn't think that she would need that for this event. It might be out of place in the restaurant, anyway, and (though she didn't really care what people thought of her and of the choices she made in her life) she didn't intend to draw any unwanted attention to Garrus and herself. She wanted this evening to be just for them, to pretend that they were a regular couple and saving the galaxy wasn't something that rested on their shoulders.

Then there were the Cerberus casuals, of course, and she could certainly wear those, but they wouldn't exactly be something special for the occasion. Her eyes fell on the dress that she wore at Hock's party, and she could hear Kasumi's words echo in her head. 'It accentuates your figure. Turians like that.'

She hesitated for a few seconds, then took it off the hanger and held it in her hands, wondering if this was really the best choice. She never liked dresses and high heels; she felt more comfortable in army fatigues or a well-fitting armor. But tonight she wanted to look and feel like a woman. A human woman even a turian would find attractive. Maybe even irresistible. A warm feeling spread out from her belly to every inch of her being and a smile tugged on the corner of her lips at the thought. Her mind made up, she laid the dress on her bed, then she disappeared behind her bathroom doors to take a shower.

 

* * *

 

Garrus was pacing impatiently up and down at the docking port, hoping that she was going to show up soon and his stomach could stop doing backflips every time he thought he'd heard a door swoosh open. He finally stopped, took a deep breath and smoothed down his blue and silver tunic, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest, closed his eyes and smiled happily to himself as his mind replayed the events of the last few days.

He wasn't sure when and how it happened that his feelings for his commanding officer changed from respect and friendship to the kind of attraction that kept him awake at night, but it had probably started even before she died. He remembered how his heart would beat a little faster and his breathing would get a little shallower when she would smile at him, her eyes crinkling, her soft lips curving up at the corners, and her hand touching his arm in an affectionate gesture. Then she was gone and he felt so cold and empty inside. But now he had another chance with her, and he wasn't going to throw it away. He was going to show her how much he cared about her and how much she meant to him. He was going to show her-

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps clinking on the metal flooring. The stride sounded familiar but there was something strange about it, like the person approaching should have been wearing heavy boots but instead was walking in some other kind of footwear. He snapped his eyes open and he stared, slack-jawed, as Shepard approached him in a tight-fitting black dress and matching high heels.

He pulled away from the wall and swallowed hard as he raked his eyes over her slim waist, her curvy hips and long legs, which seemed even longer in those uncomfortable looking shoes.

"Hey," she said with a shy smile, her cheeks turning red under his heated gaze.

"Hey," he managed to reply in a hoarse voice, as he forced his plates to stay closed, no matter how much effort it took. "You, ah, look amazing. Your hair looks nice," he added, examining the smooth shine of her short locks tucked behind her ear, "and your waist is..." the lump in his throat made it a little hard to form the words as his eyes roamed over her body and settled on the curve above her hips, "very supportive."

"Thanks," she laughed, happy that she'd taken Kasumi's advice about her outfit. She looked him up and down with an appreciative gaze and nodded, "You look good in these colors. They suit you."

"Maybe I should wear this more often then," he smirked.

"Maybe you should." She smiled and took his arm. "So, shall we?"

"Let's go. You're gonna love this place," he said with a confident smile.

 _'I hope,'_ he thought to himself as they strolled out onto the Citadel.


	4. Chapter 4

The restaurant was on the Presidium, its large windows showcasing a gorgeous view of the lake in the distance and a tidy park with fountains and benches adjoining the terrace that belonged to the establishment. The dining room was small and cozy, as Garrus had indicated, but it had been expanded with a bar and dance area, the two main sections separated by a short corridor and something that looked like a bead curtain. The pulsing beat of music drifted in from the bar, though the curtain did a good job at muffling it enough to make even quiet conversation possible.

Garrus and Shepard were led to a booth by an asari maitre d' with dark blue skin and violet eyes. She must had seen her fair share of curiosities in her life, for she didn't bat an eye and her smile did not fade one bit at the sight of the scarred turian accompanied by the human female.

"Your server will be with you in a moment," she said with a nod as she handed them two menus and adjusted the tablecloth before she returned to her post to assist the next set of customers.

"Wow. This is a really nice place," Shepard noted as she looked around. The lighting was low and soothing, assisted by small candle-like devices in the middle of each table, their soft glow gently illuminating their surroundings.

Garrus leaned back in his seat with a happy grin; it was good to know that he'd made the right decision by bringing her here.

"Yeah, I know the owner from my C-Sec days. Nice guy. I had to do some surveillance here once when I was investigating a volus dealing in Red Sand," he explained, folding his arms across his chest. "I came here a few times after that. The food is excellent. Well, at least it was back then," he added with some hesitation.

He picked up the menu to look through it and was relieved to find that it had not changed much since he'd last been here. Of course, he didn't really have any idea if the human dishes were any good, but he fervently hoped so. It would be more than awkward if their first date ended in disappointment, or worse, in a visit to the hospital. Shepard followed his example and started to examine the list of dishes available for human consumption. When she got to one particular item her eyes opened wide and she let out a little gasp.

"My god, they have lasagna!" she exclaimed, and Garrus's stomach sank. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Umm... Is that bad?" he asked, dreading her answer and hoping that whatever that thing was, it wasn't something totally disgusting.

"No, not at all! It's one of my favorites," she enthused, "and I don't even remember when I had it last. Gardner hasn't exactly been spoiling us with his cooking, you know." She winked at him then added, "I don't know how the dextro chow is on the ship, but I can't imagine that it's any better than what he's been feeding us."

"Well, it hasn't killed me yet," he smirked, relieved that his restaurant choice didn't turn out to be a disaster, "but that's about the only good thing I can say about it."

She laughed and was about to say something when the waitress, a turian female, appeared at their side.

"Good evening," she said pleasantly, her eyes appraising the human woman at the table. Though it wasn't unheard of for a turian and a human to socialize, it wasn't exactly an everyday thing either. "Have you made your choi-" She'd turned towards Garrus and froze, staring at him for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face. "Garrus! What are you doing here?!"

"Oh. Hey, Leeta," he said, dropping his arms by his side and tensing up a bit, the unconscious move setting off an alarm in Shepard and snapping her senses to full alert.

"I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been? What happened to your face?" The waitress reached out and tried to touch his scarred cheek, but he pulled away. "I can take care of that for you, you know," she said suggestively, putting her hand on her waist and jutting her hip out.

Shepard narrowed her eyes and glared at her, her stomach tightening into a hard knot. It took all her self-control not to jump up and punch her in the face, knock her down, then straddle her prone body and smash her head into the hard floor. She decided to keep her violent thoughts in check and stay quiet instead, waiting to see where all this was going. She trusted Garrus and believed him when he'd said that he didn't want anybody else, but still, she couldn't help but clench her fists at the thought that maybe a turian female was more in line with what he needed. Not a squishy human like her.

"Ah... That's okay," he said as he reached across the table to grab Shepard's hand. "I've got all the help I need. Right, _honey_?"

Shepard couldn't contain her grin as she squeezed his hand and answered in the sweetest voice possible, "That's right, _sweetie_."

Leeta stared at Garrus, then Shepard, then at Garrus again, then finally swallowed hard, withdrew her hip and managed to say in a hoarse voice, "I'm... glad to hear that. So, umm, have you decided yet what you'd like?"

 

* * *

 

"Who the hell was that?" Shepard demanded after they'd placed their orders and Leeta had scrambled back to the kitchen.

"Sorry. I totally forgot about her." Garrus let go of Shepard's hand and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "She, ah, had a thing for me... back then. But I wasn't interested," he added quickly, hoping that this would be the end of it. Of course, he couldn't be that lucky.

"So..." she raised her eyebrows in mock indignation," Is that why you brought me here? To scare away all those women who have the hots for you?"

"Well, you know..." he chuckled, "Otherwise I'd have to beat them off with a stick."

She laughed, her heart filled with affection and relief. It was nice to spend this time with him; just the two of them, far from the pressures of command, the needs of the crew and the looming danger of their mission. To pretend that there was nothing wrong in the world, and they had all the time they wanted to concentrate on the present and on each other.

When Leeta brought out their food (lasagna for her and some steak-looking big chunk of meat for Garrus) and filled their glasses with wine, she looked so heart-broken that Shepard almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"You can still change your mind, you know," she teased Garrus, nodding towards Leeta's back after the waitress had quickly retreated from their table.

"No thanks," he grinned. "But I'm not the only one with an admirer here, you know," he added, glancing towards one of the tables in the center of the room.

She followed his gaze and her eyes were met with the drunken leer of a middle-aged, balding man, raising his glass to her.

"No fair." She pretended to pout. "Yours is at least sober."

"He's lucky he's drunk," he grumbled.

"And if he wasn't?" she goaded him, digging into her lasagna.

"I'd be forced to pick him up by his neck and throw him out right on his ass."

"I love it when you talk dirty," she chuckled, noting with a smug feeling that his eyes darkened with jealousy a little bit when he regarded the hapless drunk, who was totally oblivious to the threat of bodily harm that could come to him should he become brazen and foolish enough to approach her.

Garrus snapped his head back to look at her, his eyes boring into hers, his intense gaze setting butterflies afloat in her belly.

"I'll have to remember that," he finally said with a grin.

"Umm... How's your food?" she asked, blushing, trying to pretend that she didn't notice the undertones in his voice.

He sliced off a chunk of his meat, stuffed it in his mouth, and closed his eyes as he chewed and savored the flavor. "Excellent."

The evening was going great so far. He was a little worried when Leeta showed up, and berated himself for having forgotten all about her and her unwanted advances, but he was relieved that she didn't ruin their date. They ate, drank a few glasses of wine and talked about everyday stuff, trying to avoid any topic that would remind them that this was just a short reprieve from the constant problems and battles their lives seemed to be revolving around. After they'd finished their meal and paid the bill, there was only one thing left he still wanted to do.

"Shepard," he looked into her eyes and nodded towards the bar as they stood up from the table, "do you want to dance?"

"Garrus," she looked up at him with a self-deprecating grin, "have you seen me dance?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "but I'm willing to take the risk."

"Ass," she laughed and punched him in the arm.

He took her hand and led her through the corridor and the bead curtain into the adjoining room. There were a number of people standing around the bar or sitting at small tables along the walls, and a few couples were dancing in a corner that was illuminated by glowing floor tiles that flashed to the beat in different colors.

"Wait a second," he said and walked up to the bartender, greeting him like they were old friends. He leaned closer and said something to him. The turian flashed a curious glance at Shepard, nodded, then went to the end of the bar and fiddled with some buttons. The music changed from an upbeat tempo to a slow song that she instantly recognized. It was "Hold Me Tonight" by The Sialla Sisters, an asari band that was universally popular for their romantic tunes.

Garrus came back and they walked to the dance floor hand in hand, and once there, he turned around to face her and pulled her close. Her cheeks were burning and her heart was racing as she put her arms around his neck and he settled his hands on her lower back. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his chest. She felt safe and content in his arms as they swayed slowly to the soothing rhythm, the room and everybody else retreating into a hazy blur around them. Their senses focused on each other: their touch, their breathing, the beat of their hearts. He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, then bent down and nuzzled the crook of her neck. When he dragged his tongue over her skin, her knees almost buckled and her blood rushed to her lower belly.

"Garrus," she whispered, barely able to get the words out, "let's get back to the ship. I need that stress release. _Right now_."


	5. Chapter 5

They managed to keep their hands to themselves on their way back to the Normandy, but as soon as they were in the relative privacy of the elevator he grabbed her by her waist and drew her to him. There was no resistance on her part; in fact, she threw her arms around his neck and snuggled her body into his chest. He let out a happy little purr when she reached up and pulled his head down to brush her lips against his mouth plates.

"Kiss me, Garrus," she whispered, before realizing that she didn't even know if turians did that. The difference in their biology didn't matter anymore. He'd ceased to be a member of a different species and was just Garrus now—the one person in the whole galaxy whom she knew she could trust with her life, the one person who would always have her six and would follow her to hell and back without hesitation. He was the one who made her laugh, filled her heart with affection and whom she couldn't imagine a day without. His warmth enveloped her whole being and when his tongue darted out, seeking entrance, she happily obliged. She let out a soft moan as his tongue swept in, sliding against her own, and her fingers started to instinctively caress the back of his neck.

Her touch sent a bolt of heat through his veins and his already loosened plates fully opened. He walked her back to the wall, grabbed her thighs and lifted her up, hooking her legs around his slim waist and holding her between him and the paneling. His mouth left her lips and he gently nibbled on her throat then licked her skin, relishing the way it made her gasp and hold onto him tighter. With her dress pushed up and bunched between them, she could feel the scorching heat from his body through her soaked panties and, without thinking, she pressed herself harder into him. He growled and squeezed her legs more firmly, his talons pressing into her skin, and kissed her again.

When they finally arrived on her floor he carried her out, cupping her bottom with his strong hands to support her weight. She held onto him with one hand while she punched in her code to unlock the door, then buried her face in the crook of his neck as they entered and he took her to her desk. He found an empty spot on the surface and carefully deposited her, her legs still wrapped around his hips. She kicked her shoes off and wiggled her toes to relax them after they'd been confined for so many hours. Her legs rubbed against his side in the process, eliciting a rumble in his chest and his hands moved up from her bottom to her waist.

His heart beating hard, he gently squeezed that graceful curve that he'd so admired when he'd first seen her this evening. He touched his forehead to hers, eyes closed for a second, and forced out the words over the lump in his throat that he needed to ask before he'd lose himself in the heat of the moment.

"Do you want this, Shepard?" His voice was raspy and strained, and he silently prayed to the Spirits that her answer was going to be yes.

She pulled back, looked into his eyes and cupped his face, stroking his face plates with her thumbs as she replied, her own voice breaking a little, "More than anything."

The rumble in his chest intensified and he wasted no time reaching under her dress and tugging on her underwear to pull it down. The urgency of the motion forced a small gasp out of her throat, quickly followed by a rush of blood to her groin, and she lifted her hips to help him accomplish his task. Her panties discarded on the floor, she trembled with breathless anticipation, but his movements slowed down to a torturous pace as he gently stroked her legs with his talons.

He loved the feeling of her smooth skin over her hard muscles. He could feel a slight tremor under his hand as he moved cautiously from her knees up her thigh then down to her knees again, only to travel back towards her center, along the inside of her thighs this time. Stopping just before reaching his goal, he bent down and nipped at her flesh along her throat, from her collarbone up to her jawline, and she couldn't help but grab his fringe at the pressure building inside her, aching for him to continue. She opened her legs wider and pushed her hips forward, inviting his fingers in, and when they finally moved into position she was so worked up already that she almost lost it right then.

She bit into her lower lip, not wanting to let this end so soon, and held onto him tight as he started to move the back of a finger inside her folds. She was hot and wet and foreign, yet familiar, and he gingerly explored her, dipping his finger in, coating it in her wetness, then rubbing the little bud he found in gentle circles. She moaned and her fingers moved to the back of his neck, caressing the sensitive skin there, and it took all his self-control not to take his hardened shaft, which had fully emerged by now, and thrust inside her. Instead, he pulled his finger out, eliciting a disappointed groan from her, knelt down, lifted her legs and rested them over his shoulder. When he began to drag his tongue over the skin on the inside of her thighs, alternating from one side to the other, closer and closer to the apex between them, her disappointment was turned into excitement and then apprehension.

"Garrus..." She moaned, putting one hand behind her on her desk to lean on while she held onto his fringes with the other, "Teeth... sharp... Be careful."

"Don't worry," he chuckled, and the fluttering of his mandibles would have made her giggle if not for her nervousness. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

She did trust him, but she'd never done this with a turian before. But when his long tongue finally started to lick her seam she forgot all about her reservations and the only words that were able to come out of her mouth were "Oh... Oh god, yes, right there."

He worked that wonderful tongue of his inside, lapping her up and down, circling her clitoris, sending wave after wave of incredible pleasure throughout her whole body. _'You're really good at this',_ she wanted to say, but the words got caught in her throat as the pulsing inside her groin suddenly exploded as the first surge of orgasm took hold of her shaking body.

He tightened his grasp and kept licking and thrusting his tongue in until she went limp and collapsed on her elbows.

"Wow..." she panted and stroked his arms as he stood up and pulled her to him, "You weren't kidding."

He flared his mandibles in a satisfied grin and ran his talons through her hair, carefully brushing her locks behind her ear. They felt soft and silky against his fingers, not at all what he'd expected.

"Does this hurt?" he asked. He hoped it didn't, for he couldn't stop sliding his fingers through the strands.

"No." She smiled and reached up to touch his fringe. "How about this?" She hadn't even considered the possibility before that grabbing it could cause him any pain. It felt pretty sturdy and he didn't seem to mind, but she wanted to be sure before she repeated that motion - something which, if he ever did that incredible thing with his tongue again, was bound to happen.

"No," he replied and swallowed hard as she ran her fingers over the top then on to the underside, "it feels...really good."

He grabbed her waist and pulled her off the desk, held her tight for a few seconds, then reached behind her back and searched for the zipper to get rid of her dress. Just as he found it and started to pull it down, she moved her hands under his tunic and his grip almost faltered when her deft little fingers started to scratch the soft patches of skin between his hard plates. Determined to succeed despite her wonderfully distracting hands, he continued and managed to pull the zipper all the way down. The dress fell open in the back, giving enough slack for him to easily remove the whole thing, sliding it down her arms and body. He grunted in disappointment, however, when he found another piece of clothing underneath. She chuckled and took pity on him, reaching back to unhook and remove her bra. The cool air and his intense gaze at her chest gave her goosebumps and he watched, fascinated, as her nipples hardened and got darker right before his eyes.

He reached out and gently cupped her breasts with his hands, squeezing them lightly. She trembled and let out a small gasp when he ran his talons over her nipples, and her groin started to pulse with desire again.

"You're still over-dressed," she whispered in a husky voice and tugged on his tunic.

He chuckled and undressed as quickly as he could. Her eyes roamed over his body as he revealed it, noting the leathery hide between hard plates and settling down on his blue, erect cock. She barely had time to take in his shape and size before he picked her up and carried her down the steps to the bed, laid her down and climbed over her, putting his weight on his elbows.

Their eyes locked onto each other as his face hovered above hers and his breath, shallow and ragged, grazed her skin with hot little puffs of air. She wanted this so much but she was nervous, even scared, if she was being honest with herself.

 _'I should have watched those vids. I should have done some research,'_ her brain was screaming at her, but her frantic thoughts were cut off when he bent down and kissed her, slow and deep, and her body relaxed in an instant.

He nuzzled and licked the crook of her neck while his hand moved down her front, palmed her breast for a while, then continued its trek to her center. Once it arrived, he stroked her seam a few times, reveling in the way she arched her back and bucked her hips at his touch, then he took his shaft, circled her clitoris with it, then slowly pushed in.

A ragged moan escaped her lips at the sensation of him filling her, and she held onto him tight, trying to adjust to his size. He could feel her channel clamping down around him, and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm down and force himself to wait until he was confident that she was relaxed and ready for him.

"You okay?" he asked, lifting his head and looking into her eyes.

"Yeah. Better than okay," she replied, smiling, and she wiggled her hips to let him know that he could start.

He growled softly and began moving in and out, gently, in shallow strokes, the humming in his chest reverberating in her own body. Every push rubbed against the perfect spots inside her, and heat started to build up in her lower belly and branch out into every inch of her being. She stroked the back of his neck then ran her fingernails up and down his back, and his thrusts became deeper and harder.

 _'Spirits, she feels incredible,'_ he thought as her inner muscles tightened around him and her hips rocked against his, letting him bury himself fully inside her.

"We... _unf..._ should have done this...sooner," he groaned as he pistoned in and out while he bent down and licked her throat, her neck, her collarbone - anywhere he could reach.

"I... _ahh..._ agree," she panted, barely able to get the words out, all her nerve endings on fire as the ridges of his shaft and the softer area around his opening created the perfect friction inside and out.

They kissed and moved in harmony, and when she finally reached her climax, crying out his name and spasming around him, he was right behind her with a few more erratic thrusts and a loud groan. He collapsed on his elbows, careful not to crush her with his weight, and brushed the hair sticking to her sweaty brow away from her eyes.

"Jane," he purred, stroking her face with the back of a finger, and this simple little gesture filled her heart with so much joy that she could barely contain it. With a happy little grin she reached up to trace the blue paint over his face plates.

"That was definitely an incredible way to blow off steam," she chuckled, still a bit breathless, and he joined in with his own little snort.

His shaft receded, and he rolled off to her side. Then he remembered something, sat up, and examined the insides of her thighs. They were a bit red and he felt a pang of guilt stab at his heart.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have-"

"No, that's fine," she interrupted. "Mordin can supply some oils or ointments."

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"I guess you got his informational packet?" she asked, gasping for air.

"Yep. Studied some of the, ah, more important items," he flared his mandibles in a smirk.

"I can tell. Maybe a little later we can test out more of your knowledge."

"I'll be here and ready," he winked. He lay back down, pulled her close and gently stroked her back. His hand wandered over to the curve of her waist and squeezed lightly. "Whenever you need me."

"I'd like that," she smiled as she snuggled up next to him.

 _'Human crews could learn a few things from turians,'_ was her last thought before she drifted off to sleep. She could really get used to this blowing off steam thing.

As long as it was with Garrus.


End file.
